


Dreamer's Thought

by sansasnarks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Stark Family, Starklings, because who doesn't need starkling memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansasnarks/pseuds/sansasnarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of all the things Bran sees in his visions, the best - and most painful - are those of his family. Bran gets to see his siblings again, but not in the way he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamer's Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify the ages: in the flashback, the Stark kids are the same age as their book counterparts (Robb is 14, Rickon is 3, etc). Also, I'm following the book's description and calling the old man the Crow, as opposed to the three eyed Raven. I've been meaning to write this for a while, so I hope you all enjoy!

Bran turned and found himself face to face with Robb.

He couldn't speak at first - all he could do was focus on his big brother. Except the Robb he remembered was tall, much taller than Bran was, but this Robb was his height, clean shaven, and his hair had just been cut, Bran noticed, because the curls that Robb had when he left Winterfell were short and closer to Robb's face. There was something different about the way Robb carried himself, and it wasn't because he was younger - maybe 13, 14 years old at the time. Bran focused on Robb, trying to figure out what was different, until he realized - it was his eyes. Bran had remembered Robb before he left Winterfell - Robb the Lord,who no longer joked, but held his tongue, was solemn, and had eyes filled with worry. This Robb's eyes weren't filled with seriousness or sadness, but were sparkling and full of light.

Robb was _happy_.

He was also hiding behind one of the walls, panting and smiling, peering out to make sure no one saw him. Bran smiled and peered alongside Robb, and grinned when he saw Arya across the yard. Her hair was long and tangled as always - done up in a messy bun that was falling out, and mud covered her clothes, but that didn't bother Arya. She stood in the middle of the square and turned, as if she was looking for someone, and her head moved to Robb's spot before he jerked his head back. Robb closed his eyes and moved back, but Bran saw Arya grin and start running over to Robb's spot.

"Robb!" came a small voice behind him, and Bran turned with Robb to see two small boys running up to Rob. One had a shock of long blonde hair and was sucking his thumb, his other hand holding onto the slightly older boy, who had equally long, dark brown hair and was looking up at Robb with wide eyes. "Arya's coming this way!" the older boy whispered.

Bran blinked at the image, and all of a sudden, the Crow was beside him. "You remember this," the man said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," Bran said, his eyes still fixed on Robb, who was trying to shush his younger self and Rickon. "We were all playing for once. Arya dragged Sansa and Jon into playing - I don't remember where they were, but Robb was trying to get us to be quiet, and Arya came and tackled him."

Right on cue, Arya burst onto the scene and jumped at Robb. "You're it!" she said, jumping on top of Robb - not the tackle that Bran had remembered, but he still knew what was coming next. Arya jumped off and scampered away, giggling, and Robb blinked, shocked for a second, before he turned and gently tapped Bran. "You're it!" he shouted, grabbing Rickon and running in Arya's direction.

"Hey!" Bran saw himself yell, and then his younger self was running.

"Come," the Crow said, turning the opposite way. "I have something to show you."

Bran looked back at the Crow, who was heading towards the tombs of Winterfell. He sighed, turning to follow before he heard his younger self shout, "Where are you?".

Bran turned towards his own voice, watching his younger self search for his siblings. He knew what happened next - he had managed to find Sansa, as her hair had been sticking out behind a crate. He had lived this memory, remembered everything that happened. This wasn't what the Crow wanted to show him. What he did want to show him was in the tombs, Bran knew, for the Crow was well on his way there. He should follow the Crow. And yet, Bran found himself walking towards his younger self, his steps quickening into a run until he was next to his younger self.

Bran spotted Sansa now, hiding and giggling to herself. When his younger self shouted, however, Sansa frowned and when Bran turned his head in her direction, she shifted, allowing her head to peek over the crate. Bran saw himself smile and race towards Sansa. "Found you!" he shouted, and Sansa ran from the crate, giggling.

"Arya and Jon are over there," she yelled, pointing at the blacksmith's table, and Arya stood, a sheepish Jon behind her. "Traitor!" Arya shouted, glaring at Sansa.

"Am not!" Sansa cried out, glaring at Arya's spot.

"Well, Robb is over there with the baby," Arya said, motioning across from her, and Bran saw Robb stand up, holding onto Rickon, who had fallen asleep in his arms. "Hey," he said, his voice but a whisper. "What did _I_ do?"

"I'm not going down by myself!" Arya hissed.

Bran laughed at the offended look on Robb's face. He looked at his siblings, trying to remember who he had gone after. "Right. Sansa," he said, and at that very moment, young Bran turned and ran towards Sansa, who shrieked and ran to Robb's spot. "Well don't come here," Robb said, his voice exasperated, but he grinned and started running across the quad.

"Come on," Arya said, pulling at Jon, and the two took off, Jon nearly bumping into Jory.

"Sorry!" Jon yelled over his shoulder, and Jory laughed, shaking his head at the children.

"They running from you, Bran?" Jory yelled, and Bran turned with his younger self.

Bran paused, taken aback when he saw Jory staring right at him. In every vision the Crow had ever taken him to, no one looked directly at Bran. He was never sure if they would remember his presence - they would never acknowledge him, or go near him. But yet, Bran noticed that it wasn't as simple as them not sensing his presence. People seemed to veer around him, look past him, almost unconsciously - as if on some level, they knew he was there. No one had ever looked at him before.

Until Jory, who was looking almost unconsciously at the spot above young Bran's head - to older Bran.

Even when Jory's eyes dropped down to young him, Bran didn't notice. "Bran?" Jory repeated. "They running from you?"

"Yes, they are," both Brans repeated, finally responding to Jory's question -" younger Bran's voice frustrated, older Bran's voice confused and wistful.

"Well, you better catch them, then," Jory said, laughing. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "They went that way," he whispered, pointing to the woods. "Don't let them get away now."

"Right," Bran said, and he was off, not even bothering to wait for his younger self. He ran towards the woods, where his siblings were running off, Sansa running behind Robb, who was still carrying Rickon, and Arya already far ahead of the group. Jon was straggling behind, and Bran's siblings were laughing.

"Catch him!" Sansa shrieked, running close to Robb, and Bran didn't know if she was talking about Jon or Robb, but he remembered who he had gone after and took a left, running to Jon's direction. Jon looked back at Bran and gave him a rare smile. "Can't catch me, Bran," he laughed, and he took off. Bran laughed and increased his speed, reaching out his hand to tag Jon.

The distance between them wasn't too far, and within a few moments, Bran was close to Jon, his fingertips were just inches away from Jon's back. Jon looked back at Bran and laughed, trying to go faster but knowing that Bran would catch up. Bran leaned in, closing the distance between him and Jon, so close to his brother - until a small hand moved into Bran's field of view and hit Jon's back. Bran looked down, following the hand to the small boy next to Bran.

"You're it!" came young Bran's voice, and the spell was broken.

Young Bran ran around Jon, following in his siblings' footsteps, and soon Jon was following, choosing to run after Robb, who had come back to see why Jon and Bran had stopped. Bran watched himself take cover with Sansa behind a tree. Young him was huddling with her to hide himself as much as possible, only to give up and climb the tree, crouching and watching  Jon chase Robb around the wood. For a moment, Bran hated young him with a passion. Hated himself for climbing, for grabbing Jon when he should have been the one to do it, for being naive and not knowing what was about to happen, for getting to be with his siblings while Bran had to watch a family that he would never get to _truly_ see again.

When the Crow appeared next to him, it was almost a relief.

"It seems that you are not ready," he said, putting his hand on Bran's shoulder. And suddenly, Bran was staring at Summer, who lifted his head briefly when Bran jerked awake, only to lay back down when he saw that Bran was fine.

"Will you take me back?" Bran asked the Crow, not bothering to turn his head towards the old man.

"Not there," the man answered. "Perhaps next time we will go somewhere less...personal."

Bran sighed, leaning his head back down on the ground. Apparently he wouldn't be able to see his family anymore, even in these visions. He closed his eyes, not knowing if the man wanted a response from him, but refusing to give a response regardless. He didn't know what to say, anyway - he wanted his family, but he had just started training with the Crow. Perhaps it was for the best, like the Crow said. Maybe he'd be able to see his family again soon.

As if he were reading his mind, the Crow spoke up. "I won't be taking you back there," he said. "But you will learn much, believe me."

Bran shut his eyes tighter and turned his head, refusing to acknowledge the Crow's words, and the two sat there silently until Meera and Hodor returned.

* * *

 

That night, Bran couldn't sleep. He looked, hoping that someone else was awake, but Hodor, Summer, Meera, and the Crow were all quiet, their eyes closed and their breaths silent and shallow. He settled down onto the snowy floor and closed his eyes, trying to coax himself to sleep. He found his thoughts returning to his siblings - Jon and Arya and Rickon and Sansa and Robb, and he wondered where they were now. Robb was gone, of course, and Jon was all right, but what of Sansa and Arya and Rickon? They were all either missing, or dead, and it occurred to Bran that they must think the same of him. He wished then that he could use the tree to find them, to call out to them and make sure they were safe,

Bran smiled, thinking of how he could save them. He’d find Sansa first, she was probably nearby King’s Landing. He could lead Osha and Rickon to her, and from there, they could find Arya. And when all four of them were reunited, they’d go to the Wall and surprise Jon.  Bran could see it now - Jon in his furs, swooping his siblings up in a hug, asking them with wide eyes how they had possibly managed to come up to the Wall, with little to no help.

“ _Bran did it!_ ” Sansa would say, the pride clear in her voice.

“ _He saved us,_ ” Arya would add, giving Bran a look filled with awe.

Jon would look at him, impressed and proud, and give an “Is that so?” And Bran would say yes, that it wasn’t that hard, and Jon would laugh and muss his hair, and they would march back to Winterfell and take their home back from all the invaders. They would be happy and together, just like before.

Well, not _just_ like before, Bran reasoned. Jory was still gone, and so were Mother and Father. So was Robb. Bran would never get lessons from Jory, or get scolded by his mother, or learn about Winterfell’s history from his father, or play with Robb ever again. When his family went home, it wouldn’t be complete. It - _they’d_ \- be broken and hollow. Wouldn’t they?

Regardless, Bran decided not to focus on those thoughts. He had no idea how he could get to his siblings without the Crow's help - after all, he had no way of knowing where they were, so how could he find them? He would have to wait, he reasoned, and wait for the Crow to train him for more than a few days. _Then_ he could use it to save his family - or at least, what was left of it.

But that was a frustration for later, and Bran needed to sleep, so he pushed his worries aside, instead returning to the memories he had of his family before they left Winterfell. He stretched out, making himself comfortable, and his fingertips flickered perilously close to the tree's roots. With his eyes still shut, Bran called to mind the song his mother had sung him when he was but a baby, of when Robb and Jon had let Bran "plan" one of their pranks, when he had ridden a horse for the first time. The memories popped into his head one by one, and the last thought Bran had before he fell asleep was of him and siblings running around Winterfell trying to catch each other.

When Bran found himself back in the courtyard, he figured it was a dream. His dreams were essentially the same as his visions now, but Bran knew that this had to be a dream because the Crow was nowhere in sight. He saw his siblings running around in the woods - Jon was the closest towards him, and just like before, Jon was turning and laughing, daring Bran to catch him. Bran turned, expecting younger him to race past at any moment, but there was no one behind him, and with a start, Bran realized Jon was _actually_ calling him.

He didn't need to be called a second time - as soon as he saw his younger self was nowhere to be found, Bran was off and running towards Jon, who laughed and increased his speed. Bran's reached out his hands again, and he realized that they seemed smaller somehow, but he didn't care, all he cared about was catching Jon and playing with his siblings again. Jon's back was closer now, and his siblings' laughter seemed to increase, overwhelming Bran. Part of him terrified that he wouldn't be able to grab onto Jon, that he would phase right through him or that the scene would suddenly disappear, leaving Bran alone. He was seconds away from reaching Jon, and Bran leaned in, the sound of his siblings' laughter fading away for a moment as he focused on this one task.

  
Bran's hands made contact.


End file.
